Pain stabbed at her toes. She looked down at them, but they were covered by a mound of blankets.
“Your toes are going to be fine. No blisters yet. Just superficial damage, though I’m sure they hurt like the dickens. I’ll see about getting something for the pain.”
Josephine’s eyes drifted shut. She worked to keep them open. But they were suddenly so heavy.
Her eyes opened. Her brain fought to acclimate. The insistent beeping nudged her memory. The hospital. She was at the hospital. Hypothermia.
It was darker now. And warmer. Oh glory, the warmth! Her eyes closed briefly in relief alone. Even the pain had faded to a dull ache.
She heard a movement close by.
A shadow hovered at her bedside. A hand squeezed hers through the railing.
“Hey, you,” a voice whispered.
“Noah.” Her voice was rusty.
He produced a drink, slipped the straw between her lips, holding her head up. Some of the liquid dribbled down her chin. When she was finished she fell back against the pillow. She was so tired. So groggy. Whatever they’d given her for the pain made her loopy.
Noah folded his arms on the rail and set his chin on them, his face shadowed. “You’re going to be fine. You even get to keep all your fingers and toes.”
“That’s . . . handy.”
He smiled at her. “Look at you, making jokes. You had surgery, so your stomach’s probably sore, but you’re going to be fine.”
“Just like you promised.” She tried for a smile, but her face muscles only twitched.
He squeezed her hand. “Just like I promised.”
“You’re—you’re all right?”
“I’m fine. Or will be as soon as I can get out of this ridiculous gown. Looks much better on you, I have to say.”
Her mind went back to those two long days and nights. The memories unfurled like a rolled-up map laid flat. The complete and utter cold. The closeness they’d shared. Her confession. His forgiveness. Everything after that turned fuzzy until the memories were buried under an avalanche of delirium.
And yet, here they were. “We—we really made it.”
“God heard our prayers.”
“He must’ve. That was . . . pretty intense.”
“Sure was.”
The stroke of his thumb on the back of her hand was the sweetest thing she’d ever felt. Something niggled at the frayed edges of her thoughts. A sadness. Bittersweet. Something she couldn’t quite put her finger on.
She struggled to keep her eyes open. To focus.
“I’ve been so worried about you,” he said softly.
“You . . . should be in bed.”
“I had to check on you. Make sure you were—”
Light crept in as the door opened. Noah turned.
A silhouette stopped in the doorway. “Mr. Mitchell . . . what do you think you’re doing?”
His grip tightened on Josephine’s hand. “Checking on my—”
“Never you mind. Get on back to your own room.”
“I want to stay awhile longer.”
“This ain’t about what you want. The lady needs her rest. Now, up you go.” The nurse took his arm, helping him up as she tsked. “I suppose you just ripped out that IV. Not on my shift—no siree.”
“Get some rest,” Noah said over his shoulder as the nurse escorted him out. “I’ll be back soon.”
“You’ll be back when I say so, young man . . .”
The woman’s voice continued, chastising Noah all the way down the hall until it faded to nothingness. Josephine’s lips turned up even as her eyelids drifted shut.
Chapter 33
The squeeze of the automatic blood pressure cuff pulled Josephine to consciousness. The room was empty and quiet, save the rhythmic beeping and the hum of the cuff machine.
Her body ached, especially her toes. Her abdomen. But at least she was lucid this time.
A nurse entered the room as the cuff deflated. She looked to be in her thirties, had her dark hair pulled back in a messy bun, and amply filled out her Peanuts scrubs.
“You’re awake. How are you feeling? It’s time for more pain meds if you need them.”
Josephine didn’t want drugs again. They only made her loopy. “I’m okay. How’s Noah?”
The nurse flashed her a look as she switched out the IV bag. “Your ex-husband is not a good patient. But I probably don’t have to tell you that.”
Ex-husband? Josephine blinked away the last of the fuzz. She’d been through an ordeal and a half, and her memory wasn’t at its best. But she knew she hadn’t dreamed up those papers.
“M-my ex-husband?”
The nurse gave her a funny look. “Noah . . . ?”
Josephine’s face warmed. “Of course. I just . . .”
“I’ll tell you this much. Most people get lost in the wilderness with their ex—one of them doesn’t make it back alive. Know what I’m saying?”
“He’s all right?”
“He’s insisting on an early discharge, despite the doctor’s recommendation. Maybe you can talk some sense into him. He could use another day.”
Josephine responded halfheartedly to the nurse’s questions, pretending she was tired. She wanted to be left alone. Needed to think. Those feelings that had been humming in her head when she’d woken earlier were now buzzing like a neon sign.
Once the nurse left, Josephine opened her eyes and stared out the window where the sun glistened off the treetops. Another day was underway, the sunlight a promise of warmth, the cloudless sky a promise of spring.
But a heaviness settled over her as a fist tightened around her heart. Somehow she’d felt more hopeful freezing to death in Noah’s arms in the middle of the wilderness than she felt right now.
She had a vague recollection of waking earlier to find Noah in her room. Another snippet of memory—the other nurse referring to Noah as her ex. She and Noah shared the same last name. There’s no way the nurses could’ve reached that conclusion unless Noah had told them it was so.
And he wouldn’t have said it unless he intended for it to be true. It was all done but the paperwork, after all.
Her stomach twisted painfully. Was she the only one who had thought that, perhaps, things might’ve changed? The back of her eyes stung, and her throat thickened.
Stupid, Josephine. You’re a stupid, stupid girl. When will you ever learn?
Just because they’d survived an ordeal together didn’t mean they were bound for life. Just because she’d bared her soul didn’t mean she deserved a second chance. Just because he’d forgiven her didn’t mean he still loved her.
The voices returned, taunting her.
You’re only good for one thing, Jo. No man’s ever gonna love a girl like you.
No man’s ever gonna love a girl like you.
No man’s ever gonna love a girl like you.
She shook her head, hoping to shake the thought loose. Send it flying into the universe. She was so tired of it.
She closed her eyes, needing escape. She should be grateful just to be alive. She whispered a prayer of gratitude, not quite feeling as blessed as she ought. Words dried up in her mind as shame and hopelessness filled the hollows of her chest. The familiar pain overrode the ache of her recovering body.
She should’ve known better than to hope. Noah deserved better. Someone not messed up. Look what he’d done for her out there. Given her the boots off his feet, the coat off his back. And after all she’d done to him. She could never be worthy of someone like him. What could she do but release him?
A shuffle sounded nearby, and she opened her eyes.
He stood in the doorway in his street clothes. His hair was ruffled, his jaw scruffy, his shirt buttoned crookedly, one tail longer than the other. He’d never looked more handsome.
His lips lifted as he strode into the room. “How’re you feeling?”
She clutched the bedsheets in her hand and forced a smile. “Fair to middling.”
“Yo
ur color’s a lot better.”
“How’d you escape Nurse Ratched?”
“Her shift’s over. ’Sides, I worked my charm on her. Had her eating out of my palm by the time she left.”
Josephine’s laugh sounded dry even to her own ears. “What day is it?”
“Wednesday. We’ve been here two days, one night.” He slowly lowered himself into the chair beside her bed. “Have you eaten?”
At the very thought of food her stomach clamped down hard. “I’m not hungry.”
“There’ve been people calling to check on you. Callie. Daisy. Ava.”
“Nice of them.”
“They’re your friends.”
She closed her eyes, feigning exhaustion. It was easier than looking him in the eye. Easier than keeping up a pretense.
The silence lengthened, and she realized he was going to let her rest. But instead of leaving, he settled deeper into the chair. She felt his scrutiny like a touch. She couldn’t sleep with him staring at her.
She opened her eyes and pulled the sheets to her chin.
“Are you cold? I can scrounge up another blanket.”
“I’m fine.” She gave a thin smile. “I never want to be cold again.”
“I hear you.”
“How did—what happened? Who found us?”
“Mary Beth.”
Of course. Who else would it be?
“She was plowing her drive and saw the gas can right off the side of the road. It had my name on it. She went to my place and realized the horses hadn’t been tended to. I wasn’t there, and Shadow’s bowl was dry. She remembered the shots she’d heard and put it all together.”
“She followed our tracks.”
“The plows had come through already. But somehow she found the tracks on the service road.” His voice had grown thick. He took a long blink. “I’ve never been so glad to see anyone in my life.”
She steeled herself against the emotion in his voice, on his face. Her defenses kicked in. “Sorry I missed it.”
His eyes searched hers until her cheeks warmed under his scrutiny.
“What—what happened next?”
It took him a moment to answer. He was too busy looking inside her soul. “She called medevac. We took a helicopter ride, though I’m afraid I missed that part too.”
Noah’s eyes traveled over Josie’s face, taking in her creamy skin, her pinkened cheeks.
He’d come in here hoping to find her awake. He couldn’t wait to tell her he loved her again and hear the words from lips that weren’t bleached of color. Fading with life.
The memory of her skin, gray and marble-like, had haunted him every waking moment. Only when he was with her was there any sense of peace.
But now even that was fading. Was she embarrassed by what had transpired between them out there? She wasn’t looking him in the eye. And when she did there was a guardedness he hadn’t seen since—well, it had only been a few days. But somehow that seemed like forever ago.
He’d told her he loved her, and he’d meant it. She’d said it back. But sometimes people said things they didn’t mean when they were in the middle of a trauma. Things they otherwise never would’ve said. This hadn’t been one of those times.
At least, not for him.
He couldn’t forget what it had felt like—almost losing her out there. The same desperation swelled in him again.
“You’re probably eager to get home and check on your horses,” she said.
“Mary Beth’s taking care of them for me.”
“Shadow’s probably beside himself.”
His chest tightened, and his extremities felt twitchy all of a sudden. He shifted in the chair. “I get the feeling you’re ready to be rid of me.”
Her cheeks flushed with color. Her eyes toggled around the room, finally settling on the IV on the back of her hand.
She fiddled with the tape. “Why, of course not. You’re just . . . all dressed and ready to go. There’s no reason for you to stick around here any longer.”
“So you’ll be fine—if I just leave you here.”
She smiled. “Of course. I’ll be out of here lickety-split and I’ll, you know, get on with my life. We can both get on with our own lives.”
“Get on with our own lives.” His voice was as flat as a punctured tire.
Her smile faltered. “I mean, as terrifying as the past few days have been . . . it was good for us, don’t you think? Healing. We—we’re in a better place now. Each of us.”
Each of us.
“I’m glad we talked. I feel better for telling you about my past, for having received your forgiveness. And you must feel better now that you’re not . . . angry with me anymore. It was . . . good closure.”
“Closure.”
“Right.”
“Right.”
He didn’t know what to say. Awkwardness hovered between them like a cloud of sawdust.
They’d shared awkward moments before; what couple didn’t? Their first morning as husband and wife came flooding back, taunting him.
He studied her as she slept. The morning light fell like a whisper on her creamy skin. When she opened her eyes and found him staring, her cheeks slowly colored—the night before, no doubt, flooding back. She wasn’t shy or naïve. He had no doubt she’d awakened naked in bed with others before him. But he had a feeling she felt stripped bare this morning in other ways. More important ways.
And he suddenly wanted, more than anything else, to put her at ease.
In an abrupt move, he rolled on top of her and began planting sloppy kisses on her forehead, her cheeks, her nose, her eyelids, her neck, finding ticklish spots. He kept on until she was shaking with laughter.
Eventually his kisses wandered lower, to her shoulder, growing slower, softer, until she wasn’t laughing anymore.
Now he found himself wanting to break the tension again. Wanting to make her laugh. See her eyes curve into crescents, hear her smoky laughter ring out between them.
But he could think of nothing to do. Nothing to say. And the ache in his gut was no laughing matter.
“I thought I’d find you in here.”
Noah turned as the nurse entered the room. She had him sign his early discharge papers and gave him take-home instructions. Noah gave back the signed paper mechanically, his mind still on Josie and their conversation and what would happen next.
When the nurse left, Noah looked at Josie. “Well . . . I guess that’s that then.”
She’d raised the head of her bed while he’d been distracted with the paperwork. Her hair was finger-combed, now artfully tousled around her face. In short, she was beautiful.
She gave him a saucy smile that seemed to come out of nowhere. “You know, I just can’t let you leave like that, all buttoned up crooked.”
His eyes dropped to his shirt.
“Cute as can be, but with all the scruff you’ve got going on, it’s a bit derelict for you.”
He blinked at her. She was flirting. Doing that thing she did. Keeping him at arm’s length with that façade of hers. She’d found a way to deal with the awkwardness.
And darned if it didn’t hurt like the dickens.
He cleared his throat. “I’ll be back tonight after I check on things at the ranch.”
She fussed with the sheets. “Oh, now, don’t do that. It’s much too far to drive. I’ll probably be out of here in the morning anyway.”
It was less than an hour’s drive. And the whole reason he’d busted out early was so he could be with her without those nurses hovering. But Josie didn’t want his company.
Everything they’d been through, everything she’d said—it had only been the desperation of the moment. She’d been dependent on him. They’d been dependent on each other.
But that was over now, apparently.
His throat tightened painfully as the walls of his chest closed in. Maybe this was what she needed. Maybe he’d only been a brief stop on her way to being a healthier person.
An intern came into the room, a food tray clattering in her hands. “Here you are, Ms. Mitchell.”
“Thanks, sweetie,” Josie said as the intern left. She tore the wrapper off her straw and stuck it into the foil lid of her juice. “I’m suddenly ravenous.”
Noah scratched the back of his head. “Well . . . I’ll just . . . get out of your hair.”
Before he could leave, Josie grabbed his hand. “Noah, wait.”
Hope swelled at her touch. At the look in her eyes. An authenticity was there that hadn’t been seconds before. He squeezed her hand, waiting.
Something shifted on her face. “I-I don’t know if I even said thank you. For everything you did out there.” Tears shimmered in her eyes even while her smile dazzled. “I don’t know what I would’ve done without you, Noah. Frozen to death, no doubt.”
Something inside shriveled up and died. His heart, perhaps. He didn’t want her gratitude. He wanted her love.
He swallowed hard, took a second to compose himself. “It was my pleasure, Josie,” he said. And realized he meant every word.
Chapter 34
Copper Creek
The tall domed sanctuary stretched ahead like an ethereal passageway to another world. From the back pew of Messiah Lutheran Church Josephine stared up at the stained-glass windows behind the altar. Sunlight filtered through in jeweled tones, outshining the overhead pendants.
The stained glass depicted Jesus on the cross, His disciples grieving at His feet. A scripture scrolled across the heavens. Greater love has no one than this, than to lay down one’s life for his friends.
The service had ended awhile ago. The parishioners were long since gone, and the throbbing organ had given way to a hushed silence. Josephine hadn’t intended to stay, but the tranquility of the building comforted her.
And God knew, she needed comfort.
A lot had happened up there in the mountains. Some of it good, she’d realized over the past few days. She’d found peace about certain things. The deep-down kind that made sitting through a church service an act of worship rather than a form of torture.
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